As happens from time to time, I caught different parts of the same radio programme on separate days. The topic was the rise and fall of Little Chef, the roadside restaurant chain which began in 1958. At various times the firm found itself in trouble and experienced rescues and takeovers. For a long while it was a popular brand although I recall, in the early 90s, experiencing slow and variable service; uncertain standards of cleanliness; and very indifferent food. I began to avoid them at all costs!

The Radio 4 programme, in the series Toast, was first broadcast back in April. In many ways it was the sorry story of a brand that had lost its way, despite some frontline staff putting considerable faith in its culture and potential. At one point the many of the properties used by the chain were bought, then sold and leased back, in order to raise cash to invest in the fabric and the food. Despite the understandable attraction of this approach there are many examples of companies that come to regret the long-term obligations to the freeholder that are integral to leasing. Come rain or shine, prosperity or austerity, charges stipulated from the lease continue regardless of the wider economic realities.

“The main lesson for this, is to not let nostalgia make you fall in love with something that no longer has a purpose in the society that we live in today”.

Sam Alper, entrepreneur, speaking on “Sliced Bread. Toast – Little Chef” Radio 4, 25 August 2024

Hearing Sam Alper’s final assessment of Little Chef’s difficulties and eventual demise, I could not avoid thinking of the Church of England. Of course, I don’t believe that the C of E lacks a purpose. Presumably Little Chef was served by the underlying reality that everyone gets hungry, not least on a long journey. The appetite was there and Little Chef attempted to deliver the goods in a way that was appealing to people and made it their preference when choosing where to eat. The Church exists in a culture awash with spiritual needs; a desire to be loved and included; and people’s hunger for life’s purpose and meaning. However, the Church has largely failed to connect the story it carries with the needs of the people it is called to serve.

In the silly season of summer news reports, it was hardly surprising that some unrelated stories and commentaries were nicely turned into a yarn about how the C of E was trying to rebrand. The delightful – if erroneous – narrative was that the Church wants to stop using the word ‘church’. Andrew Brown in the Church Times gives a synopsis of how the story emerged. The difficulty in wholly denying the idea is that various churches and new expressions of church have indeed chosen a more zappy and (allegedly) appealing nomenclature. Why bother with the fusty old church when you could attend Sanctuary, complete with complementary bacon rolls?

Of course, none of the new ecclesial communities are free. There is very weak evidence to suggest that these entities establish the kind of commitment and income associated with traditionally parish churches. The flip side of the doom-and-gloom about the health of parishes is that so many manage to sustain their viability with the dedicated work of such a small number of people. Ancient buildings are maintained; children are baptised; weddings take place; and some money is channeled towards the diocese. Often these churches are in double-digit groups served by a single vicar or, indeed, a priest doing the work voluntarily. Across much of north Yorkshire these churches are open daily and welcome walkers, cyclists and those wishing to discover a significant cultural and spiritual space.

If the fundamental nature of the Church of England is changing the consequent risk is that it ceases to be the Church of England. The embedded reality of parish ministry, with the local cleric living in and among the people, meant that there was time for the vicar to be involved in a wide range of social, cultural and civic activities. These could range from the governance of schools, to local charities, to the annual pantomime. This was not a perfect system, and clergy inevitably vary in their gifts and qualities for this kind of ministry. Yet, at its best, people knew the parson and there were countless opportunities for serious conversations about faith to take place in different contexts every day. As a curate in the early 1990s there was a rich variety of engagement with a broad cross-section of the parish. Between individual conversations, and presiding at funerals and weddings, several thousand people each year had the opportunity to hear and experience our expression of the Gospel, in all its imperfection and glory. This wasn’t all down to the vicar, but paid staff can provide a particular focus, representation, and professional knowledge which, when shared and supported, can be empowering and transformative.

Perhaps I am simply being nostalgic. When Tony Blair came to power in 1997 there was a moment when it appeared he might want to harness the role of the Church of England to achieve social change. For example, he intervened to influence the appointment of the Bishop of Liverpool. At the same time the Secretary of State for Health met with leaders in hospital chaplaincy to launch a landmark programme of diversification and inclusion. Tellingly, following Keir Starmer’s landslide victory, there has been no talk about the role of the Church of England in supporting a programme of change. The little Church appears too diminished and distant to be considered a meaningful partner in supporting the vision of a social Gospel of national consequence, in the style of William Temple’s Christianity and the Social Order.

The remedy? Have faith in the parishes; support the parishes; fund the parishes. In an editorial in the Church Times it was calculated that the ‘cost’ of obtaining each new church member through innovative and strategic activities was about £5,800. I wonder what kind of Church of England we would have if every parish had been offered one-off support funding of £6K for each new regular worshipper they were able to attract? By support funding, I mean additional resources for developing initiatives appropriate to their context, be it launching food banks, purchasing high quality training or running missional programmes. Maybe even subsidising activities based on hospitality, such as Harvest Festivals or other community celebrations.

Above all, trusting the clergy and people of the parishes with what are, in essence, their historic funds, to further the vision of God they have discerned for their circumstances. I suspect that if that offer had been made, the Church would have become a lot more creative and exciting, with funding spread across all church traditions, and not weighted towards certain styles of community and worship. The end result, building up the parish system, might have amounted to a lot more than the little Church.